


In Over My Head, I Know Nothing At All

by alilyinhighgarden



Series: When You Get This Close, You Can Feel The Heat [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Post 10/1/2018 RAW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilyinhighgarden/pseuds/alilyinhighgarden
Summary: “You know I love you- we love you- but if this isn’t working for you anymore just say so.” At every turn recently it felt like someone or something was working to drive a wedge between them. The worry that it could possibly work felt like someone was taking the end of a very sharp knife and nicking slowly at his heart.“Did I say it wasn’t working for me?” He cocked his head to the side and glared, “Because I’m pretty sure I never said it wasn’t working for me. In fact I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I would be there for you and Roman no matter what.”“But do you want to be?"Set after the October 1, 2018 Episode of RAW.





	In Over My Head, I Know Nothing At All

**Author's Note:**

> This fits in with a couple of other one-shots I have written in the past month but works without reading those.

The door had not even shut behind them before Seth was demanding, “We need to talk.”

“No we don’t.” Three words. Short and sweet and flat and purposefully emotionless. It was a brush off. One that was made even more pronounced by Dean’s refusal to look in his direction.

“I can’t just ignore what happened tonight.” He dropped his bag on the floor and came to stand behind Dean.

“Why not?” Dean was decidedly still not looking at him. Somehow that made this whole thing even more frustrating.

“Because-,” there was an intensity building behind Seth’s words, “you laid a lot of shit out there and you can’t expect me to ignore it. Like saying you’ve thought about leaving The Shield.”

That.  _That_ is what caused Dean to stop rummaging through his bag and round on him. “Why does everything have to be about The Shield, huh?”

“It doesn’t,” Seth shook his head, “And maybe tonight wasn’t about that. Not really.”

“What the hell are you talking about.” Dean’s posture was tense, his shoulders almost up to his ears. It made him look like a toy that had been wound up and ready to be set free.

“You know I love you- we love you- but if this isn’t working for you anymore just say so.” At every turn recently it felt like someone or something was working to drive a wedge between them. The worry that it could possibly work felt like someone was taking the end of a very sharp knife and nicking slowly at his heart over and over. Seth was not sure if he would not prefer one heart ending slash to the torture of a million tiny cuts accumulating over time.

“Did I say it wasn’t working for me?” He cocked his head to the side and glared, “Because I’m pretty sure I never said it wasn’t working for me. In fact I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I would be there for you and Roman no matter what.”

“But do you _want_ to be,” Seth pushed.

Dean leaned in toward Seth, hands shoved into his front pockets. “Were you not fucking paying attention?”

Seth crossed his arms and nodded. “I was.” He had been standing backstage talking to Bayley when Dean’s music hit. Staring at a nearby monitor he watched on edge as Charly tried to pry from Dean answers to questions that had been plaguing Seth for a week, longer if he was honest with himself. Dean’s words about brotherhood and riding into battle together should have eased his mind but instead the entire evening had left him feeling twisted and confused and scared. “I was listening to every word. And some of them were things you’ve never thought to bring up. Like doing fine on your own before you came back last spring?”

“I was.” The steely glint in Dean’s eye and the balled up fists at his side were daring Seth to say otherwise. He could try and intimidate all he wanted but Seth had never proved smart when it came to shying under Dean Ambrose’s intensity.

“You were?” It was a question instead of the agreement he was demanding because Seth _remembered_ seeing Dean when he was on Smackdown. _Remembered_ a man who seemed to lose that fire that always burned so fucking hot inside of him. He _remembered_ passing him in the hallways of the arena in Orlando and thinking that he just looked… tired. He _remembered_ wanting to ask how he was doing just to hear his voice and try and discern anything from his tone. He didn’t of course, but he wanted to and he remembered.

“Why is me being on my own a bad thing, huh?” It was in those words that Dean sounded unsure and that haunted look that had tinged his eyes more and more often lately reappeared.

“It’s not,” Seth rests his hand on Dean’s shoulder and was heartened when it was not shrugged away, “I’m so fucking proud of what you did. No help. Just you. It sure as hell beats half the resume I’ve racked up.”

It was something he tried not to dwell on but it was the truth. Once he left The Shield so many of his accomplishments could be attributed to the help he had along the way. His resume was full of entries that came along with an asterisk. Money in the Bank Winner. Asterisk. First person to hold the WWE and United States Championship. Asterisk. So many of his wins, including almost all of the ones against the man across from him were shadowed by an asterisk. So yeah, he was more than proud that every accomplishment Dean achieved was because he _earned_ it. He was downright envious.  

“The question is would you rather be back to doing this thing alone. Back to not having to worry about having anyone’s back? Knowing that no one has yours?”

No matter how things turned out Seth could not imagine a world where he would not run out to help Dean if he really needed it. Shield or no Shield. Them or no them. But if he needed time to be Dean again without the tag line of Shield member Seth would have to grant him that wish. 

“I don’t know man. At least on my own I knew exactly what to expect. It wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop or to be replaced.”

That word, replaced, brought back another part of Dean’s speech from the night.

“You know I didn’t want to team up with Jason,” he tried to catch those piercing eyes but found his efforts successfully dodged, “That wasn’t my choice.”

The expression on Dean’s face was indiscernible, like so many of the ones Dean had worn since returning. Seth had brushed them off. Maybe ignoring it is what made it an issue.

“Choice or no choice doesn’t mean it didn’t fucking hurt. Seeing you hold up those belts with Jordan after what, two weeks,” Dean muttered out and finally shrugged off Seth’s touch.

“It wasn’t replacing you. It was doing my job,” Seth stressed that last part.

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a humorless snort, “You’re job.” Dean brushed by him to sit on the foot of the bed. There was something in his tone that was off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You didn’t have to be a part of a tag team.” He focused on taking off his boots instead of Seth and god it was so frustrating but Seth was trying to keep calm because he did not want to fight with Dean. He never did, not anymore, but now it seemed particularly imperative.

“Kurt made that decision. What was I supposed to do, tell him no?” 

“Yeah-well-,” Dean paused his sentence long enough to take off his shirt, ball it up, and throw it into the corner of the room, “it’s not like Jordan’s the only one you buddied up to.”

“First, I didn’t buddy up to Jason, I tolerated him. Second, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You know, I didn’t watch every week but I watched enough.” Dean picked viciously at the skin around his thumbnail. “You seemed real friendly with Balor.”

Tonight was hitting him with a lot of surprises but this one Seth felt was the most out of nowhere. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m pretty sure Jordan wasn’t the only person you replaced me with,” Dean spat out. 

Now Seth was really confused. “Sure Finn and I had some tag matches together but we weren’t a tag team.”

Dean ran the heel of his palm rough along his jaw. “Yeah, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

His face the moment he realized exactly what Dean was insinuating would have likely been comical for anyone outside of the situation- brown eyes grown wide and mouth dropped open in shock. “Dean, _no_.” 

In return he got a look that clearly stated that Dean was not buying the denial.

“No, no, no, no,” the single syllable came out out his mouth like it was the lyrics of a CD that was skipping. “Finn and I. It wasn’t- We never.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed but it was obvious he found nothing funny, “Real convincing.”

“I’m serious,” he squatted down in front of Dean, desperate for him to look into his eyes and see the truth. “Finn is a cool dude and all but nothing happened with him. We just fought each other for a little bit and fought side by side some too.” 

“That’s not all it looked like.” 

“Dean, I’m se-“ 

“ _I don’t want to talk about this_!” The words came out sudden and loud and made Seth jump. “I don’t want to talk about any of this. I’m tired of people looking at me like I’m about to explode or freak out. Maybe I have some stuff on my mind but I’m dealing with it.”  

“Okay.” Even though Seth felt anything but okay. This situation was anything but okay. The last seven days were spent with the specter of what could happen chasing at his heels and he could not shake the feeling that soon it was going to catch up with all of them. 

Seth stood up. He should just drop the whole conversation, he _knows_ he should but-, “Roman came down there-” 

“Add Roman to the list of things I don’t wanna talk about,” Dean rubbed his hands over his hair, clearly agitated, “I was fucking fine, then he comes down. You know, he might not be able to finish a match with Braun without backup but that doesn’t mean I can’t.” The words were spit out, fierce and rapid, already loaded to use as a weapon at a moments notice. 

“You were doing great,” he affirmed, “It was a good match.” The fact that Dean only had a handful of matches since returning and one of those was an actual fight with Braun Strowman was just another bullet point in the long list of things proving Dean Ambrose’s ability between the ropes.

“Yeah,” Dean said the word as a question, looking to Seth for the answer, before he repeated firmly, “Yeah.”

“I thought for sure you were gonna get a pin at one point,” Seth nodded.

“Me too.” The corner of his lip pulled into something that was not a smile but considering the night they had Seth was willing to accept it. “I think I coulda rallied back.”

“He was just worried.”

That twinkle of a smirk immediately disappeared, “I thought I said let’s leave him out of the conversation.” 

The sense of deja vu was impossible to ignore. Him serving as a peacekeeper between Roman and Dean was never one of the parts of The Shield that he missed. In fact it had been their warring egos that had helped him justify the worst decision of his life. Now it felt like they were barreling back down that same contentious path and he was desperate to find a way to head them off. They were older, weren’t they supposed to be wiser? 

“I just-“ Seth took off his hat and threw it on the bed, “just know he came down with good intentions.”

“Really,” Dean snorted and his eyebrows raised, “because from where I’m sitting it sounded like he didn’t trust me to fight and was worried I would screw up his match for Saturday.”

“Our match,” Seth said feebly.

“Yeah,” Dean gave a dismissive wave, “Yeah, our match.”

Dean rubbed his hands over his face, obviously tired and torn and maybe more than a little lost. “Maybe when I came back I wanted it to be about me. I wanted it to be about returning after almost a year. After almost fucking dying. Instead it was about you, and Roman, and a goddamn vest from jump. Maybe- I dunno- maybe I wanted just a few moments to feel like I was important on my own.” It was a confession he seemed ashamed to make.

Seth did not know what to do. He did not know what to say. He was so happy to have both Dean and Roman by his side again but if holding onto the name and the uniform and all the trappings of the Hounds of Justice meant he could lose Dean… Well, he did not need a name to know that he loved those two men more than most anyone. Aside from that all he was sure of was that he was that he was sweaty and sore and confused. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” He hadn’t back at the arena, instead grabbing his bag and heading for the car as soon as they limped backstage after their latest encounter with Braun and his lackeys.

“K,” Dean said, already occupying himself with something else.

How did this all happen so quickly? How did it turn from him standing ringside wearing Dean’s shirt cheering him on in his first match back to wondering if Dean wants him by his side at all in what? Five weeks? Six?

When he came back out of the bathroom the only light was that from the TV that was playing something, the volume so low it was barely audible. Dean was laying in the bed but from where he stood he could not tell if he was still awake. Seth threw his clothes onto his bag deciding to deal with them in the morning. 

Sliding under the covers he laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, torn between checking on Dean and giving him his space. He had the Intercontinental Title and he had Dean back by his side night after night. He should have been falling asleep happy but all he could do was stare into the void and hope things righted themselves.

Dean’s hand brushed against his own and Seth gladly turned his hand over to entwin their fingers. The knots that tightly coiled around his stomach eased some of their tension at the warmth of his palm. They laid there like that for a few minutes. In silence, Dean’s thumb sliding back and forth over Seth’s skin.

“Thank you for coming down there tonight,” Seth said, still looking straight up, “When I was getting my ass kicked.” 

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” The question was posed with no inflection, emotionless, but it felt like a test. 

“No. I knew you’d show up,” Seth squeezed his hand. And it was mostly true. There may have been a fleeting moment when he feared that this was how he realized Dean was out. While he was being pummeled by the boots of Strowman, McIntyre, and Ziggler. But it was so brief that he did not think it earned a mention. Particularly when the situation was so precarious. “Just because I know something doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.” 

“Well, you’re welcome.”

“If Baron had made you chose the match tonight-“ 

“Then we would have had a 3 hour stand off and it would be considered the most uneventful episode RAW ever had.” For the first time this evening there was a lightness to Dean’s voice that reminded Seth of long car rides and laughs over cheap burgers.

“I’ve said it before but I’m going to say it again, if you want a title match just say the words. I’ll go out there Monday and tell them I already have an opponent for the evening. No questions asked.”

Dean’s sigh rang heavy in the darkness. Weeks ago, the first time he posed this possibility to Dean about a match he was terrified to be taken up on the offer. Now he was growing terrified of it being rejected. “It doesn’t worry you? Us facing off again.”

And that was not turning down his proposition. When Seth turned his head Dean was staring at him, bright eyes reflecting the glow from the tv.

“Of course it worries me.” He shifted up onto his elbow, “We haven’t faced off in years. And things were _so_ emotional then.” Seth does not think there has ever been a standoff between them that was not fraught with emotion. From the first moment he put his hands on Dean Ambrose he felt _something_ coursing through his veins. Rage. Lust. Love. Remorse. All of the above and more.  

“Right, so why would I chose to lead us back there for a title?” There’s an edge to his voice that sounded similar to his interview with Charly at the beginning of the evening.  

Seth picked at the comforter as he turned the question over. “The thing is, I think whatever is going on with you- it’s _something_ no matter what. If a title match could be a solution to that then, at this point, I’m willing to take a chance.”

“What if it just becomes a bigger problem? What if I win.” 

“Then we’ll have a rematch because I can’t just let you walk away with my title.” Seth tried to make the words light and fun even if every inch of his skin felt like bugs were swarming underneath its surface. 

“What if I lose?” There was a gravel in Dean’s voice that hints at uncertainty. “What if I say I need this and we face off and I end up on my back looking at the lights? What if I make us do this and next Monday night we’re back here talking about this same shit, except this time we’ve tried to tear each other apart and I’m still feeling-” His voice trailed off before he gave it a name. And that was part of the problem, the uncertainty of what the problem is in the first place.

“I don’t know.” It was simple and honest and it broke Seth heart to say. Tears stung his eyes but he blinked them back. “I just know that us- it’s more important to me than all the other shit and I’m not about to let it go down without trying everything.”

Dean’s lip quirked but his expression was sad and detached and confused. He reached up and tucked some loose strands of Seth’s hair behind his ear. “We have six days until we have to make that decision. Can we drop it for tonight?”

“Yeah,” Seth nodded because he did not know what else to say. Did not know what else to do. He leaned down for a kiss, thankful when despite everything it was enthusiastically returned.

Seth curled into Dean’s side and laid his hand on his chest so he could feel Dean’s heartbeat underneath his fingertips. He tried to imprint the memory because he was consumed by the growing fear, he was not yet ready to call it certainty, that he would not have many more nights laying next to Dean.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kyrene3 for reading over this and encouraging me more times than she should have had to in order for me to get this in a shape I was happy with. 
> 
> Title pulled from “Say Something” because the song came on last Tuesday and hit me with the right angsty feelings at the right time.


End file.
